Flux
by Where You Lead
Summary: They called me mad, and I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me.


**Flux.**  
Part 1

They called me mad, and I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me.  
-Nathaniel Lee 17th century playwright

In the city of Ba Sing Se, where the only normal bear was rumored to peruse the morning markets, and where the king was less a noodle brain than a noodle, it was the world's greatest misfortune to be of age and unmarried. The situation was only worse, one could imagine, if one was of age, unmarried, and female. Add to that an utter unwillingness to be cinched at the hip to a fellow being of the human race and the misfortune quickly became the world's greatest calamity, especially if one was, let's just say it: rich.

Toph Bei Fong was of age. She was unmarried and quite evidently female, against her wishes, she would assure anyone who had the nerve to ask. She had that singular unwillingness quite nearly trademarked and, yes, she was most certainly rich, and yes, she was quite certain that the world had it out for her from a very young age.

The first tip off was probably when she was three, bumbling about with the usual attention deficit disorder of young children—though her parents blamed her blindness—and she ran into one of those absurdly ornate sitting furniture pieces. Naturally, she wailed like one possessed, for the corner was sharp and her stomach was rather soft, and as children so often are, she was inclined to be surly about it. Her parents, however, took this as a sign of warning, of hugely catastrophic clairvoyance, and that was the beginning of the end of her life as she knew it. For if she ran stomach first into a stupid piece of furniture, who knew what else she might collide with? Age would not help, her parents were certain. Blindness would not disappear with years, they reasoned in a way most parents mistake for being wise. They kept her under guard of at least two men, and at first, freedom was laughable. She never left their sight unless she ran, and with a three year-old's leg span as opposed to that of a young man's, she was sorely outmatched.

Next came her ninth birthday. At this point the young earthbender had made her companionship with the great badger moles of the underground and mastered much of their technique. Over the years the slack on the guards around her had grown to a point of her imagining she even had her own life, going so far as to begin to practice her own earthbending style. For the first time in her life, Toph could honestly say she knew what it was like to have fun, even if she could not say the same of knowing what it was like to have a friend. She often promised herself that this would change too, and on the day before her ninth birthday, such a turn of events seemed as if it would present itself to her. In the supposed seclusion of one area of the vast Bei Fong estate, she practiced her form that day, truly learning to listen and see what others could not, before they saw anything at all. Hands in front of her, her ears perked at the distinct approach of footsteps and she acted without thinking, tossing the intruder sky-high. He landed with a resounding thud and she walked over to him, blinking slowly, wondering if she had to worry about him telling anyone, resolving to threaten him to keep quiet if he seemed like he might tattle.

"Ow," the boy rubbed his head and Toph tilted her glance in his direction. "Hi," he said, looking up at her and she could feel his eyes on her, even if she could not see them.

"What are you doing here? I don't know you," she said, as if it was reason enough for him to not be there.

"Ah, no," the boy laughed, the amicable arch of his brows belying his nervousness as much as the uneven beat of his heart. "I work in the kitchen," he confessed and dragged himself to his feet. "You're the Bei Fongs' daughter," he stated more than asked. This earned him a well pronounced and less than lady like snort.

"Duh," the not yet quite so eloquent daughter of the Bei Fongs said.

In as much words: obviously, dimwit.

"Name's Ace," he said and bowed to her. Thoroughly unimpressed, Toph stomped on the ground, causing Ace to fall back again.

"That's not a real name!" she accused. He laughed.

"No," he admitted. "But it's what I prefer," he finished. Circling the grounded kitchen boy, Toph arched a regal brow at him, every inch the princess she was raised to act like, and scowled—something she was not taught, but some things were bound to be natural.

"You're old," she finally said, the highness of her voice conveying the distaste that younger children often displayed for older children, especially teenagers. They were, after all, probably only one step down from the inane idiocy that was the race known as adults.

"Not that old," Ace frowned, getting back to his feet. "Just turned fourteen," he said. "The third of the fourth full moon cycle," he crowed a bit too cheerfully for Toph's liking but she left off her irritation at that out of genuine surprise.

"But that's my birthday," she told him, brows knitting, eyes glued on her bare feet, bare feet that gave her parents fits it might be added.

"I know," he said and she could feel his grin.

"How do you know?" she demanded.

"Your parents try to keep you secret from the outside world, but they know we're bound to notice some little girl wandering around in fancy dresses, so I know some things," he said, copying her action from before, circling her curiously.

"I'm not a little girl!" Offended was a light term for what Toph was.

"Yeah, you are," Ace shook his head and patted her on the shoulder companionably, only to find himself floored, again. Wincing, he cast a dubious look up at the heir to the Bei Fong fortune. "You don't know much about playing nice, do you?"

"I don't know anyone!" she trembled a little and Ace's expression dimmed, falling to reveal a boy much older than fourteen in some aspects. Uncertain behind all his gregarious ease, the boy stood and dusted himself off, reaching into one of his apron pockets to withdraw a sort of longish box, tied shut. He coughed to distract himself, perhaps, and then again to clear his throat.

"What's that?" she pointed at the box in his hand. He stared.

"You can't see," he said.

"What is it?" she insisted, ignoring his confusion on how she knew he had anything at all, and stepping closer. At the movement, he smiled.

"It's a birthday present."

Toph stopped, frozen it seemed.

"That's okay, right?"

The pale girl tilted her head to one side, confusion and hesitation there, but curiosity clearly getting the best of her in most ways.

"I guess," she edged closer to him and before she had time to trip him or the like, his hands closed over hers and left the box in her open palm.

"It's just, I've been here for three years now and, well," he shrugged, eyes going to the sky for a point of focus that wasn't the strange and amusing girl in front of him. "Well, I've never seen them give you a birthday present," he finished and it felt somewhat anti-climactic, but it was the truth.

"What is it?" she asked, suddenly distrustful again and he couldn't help but chuckle. "Stop laughing at me!" she ordered.

"I'm not laughing at you," he assured her and just waved a hand in her direction, adding, "Just open it."

Untying the simple twine he'd used to tie it shut, Toph removed the lid to the small box, feeling in it to lift something soft, softer at each end, a strong material though, she deduced quickly through her fingertips. After a bit more inspection, she looked in his direction, blank eyes honing in on him, "A headband?" she asked.

"It seemed useful," was his explanation and Toph called that sensible of him, if not in those exact words.

"Thank you," she said, because she knew it was polite and for whatever reason, this boy had chosen to do what no one else, not even her parents, had done for her. He celebrated her birthday.

And he didn't even know her.

"Are you my friend…then?" she asked and with all the hopes of any nine year-old who had never had a friend, scowled deeply, just in case he thought she was depending on him as much as she was.

"We could be," he said and then, "…friends, that is, we could be friends."

"Ace," she tested his name out. If they were going to be friends, she had to say his name a lot, she guessed, probably. Friends did that, she imagined.

"Toph," he returned in kind.

They walked back to the main house together, never presuming that someone was watching. They promised to meet in the same spot the next day to 'play' as Toph put it. He embraced her, albeit with every ounce of awkwardness known to man and not in small part because she tried to shove him away, but he explained to her friends did this sort of thing and so, with the reluctance of the unfamiliar, she returned the embrace. With his dark hair and fair complexion, anyone who saw might have taken them for brother and sister.

That was the last time she saw him.

When she asked her parents where the boy named Ace was, they told her he had left to seek his own fortune, but they were lying, and Toph could tell. That night she took out the box from underneath her bed, to try the headband on, only to find it much heavier than before. Confused, she untied it again, the lid coming off to reveal a wedge of stone. Lower lip pouting just slightly, Toph took out the odd rock and ran her hands across it, finding the crudest carvings made in it. Having never read before, it took Toph a whole cycle of the moon to figure out the one sentence on it, just from the shape and the sound of what those shapes probably made, putting them together until it made sense.

It said he was sorry.

She could only imagine, over the next three years, what he was sorry for. For leaving? For not being more careful? Nothing could be certain, not where her parents' power over her was concerned. Really, he had nothing to apologize for. They were, as Toph soon came to be resigned to, bound to ruin everything for her. Perhaps it was a childish way to phrase it, but the outlook came from truth and having no other world to place hers against, the view was relatively grim.

Then came Aang and the war to her doorstep, and with the pair of them, her freedom. Then came the fall of old Ba Sing Se and the failed invasion, the failed day of black sun, but in all of that, the chance do what she loved: fight. Then came the banished prince and all he had left to offer in ending the sordid hundred-year war, and at last, the fall of the most hated fire lord.

And then came peace, and Toph Bei Fong had as much of an idea of what to do with herself as anyone who lived for the fight: no idea whatsoever. Her parents had ideas, though one stood out like a gem among cotton balls: marriage to the most prospective bachelor in the city of Ba Sing Se, their new home, much to Toph's upset and frustration. They moved, she was nearly positive, to drive her mad. Rather than stay in Gaoling, they decided to move to the city she had taken to frequenting most, and without any notice on top of all of that. A telegram was sent to her, asking her to meet with her parents, who she assumed at the time, were visiting. Her dismay literally shook the hall of the place she went to meet them, the hall of their new home. They had tricked her into coming 'home' and that is where this story really began, or, begins, as it were.

Toph was of a sturdy mind still, set in her ways, willing to pretend she would consider other's opinions at most, and quite clear about it too. She dismissed all suggestions of a husband and often disdained the options as well. At social functions she could be found gathering her trailing gown in her hands and slipping away out some rigged back exit she'd set up ahead of time, returning with leaves and whatnot in her previously well coiffed and jeweled hair. Schooling was impossible and a smile could be dragged out of her only by bribery of a particularly interesting gift or a day out of the new estate.

Her consolation was that, at least now, people knew she existed, but this was not much when a life full of freedom was so quickly swept aside to be replaced by a life completely bereft of it. Dull, she called it with a rough exhale that sent her bangs flying, and the other friends on and of team Avatar were inclined to agree, though there was little to be done about it. As Toph has said a long time ago, they were her parents, and where else could she go? The need for fighters passing, the Avatar now more of a figurehead for the general people of the world rather than her student, what excuse did she have to travel with him? It was even less convincing a suggestion when one pointed out that Aang was the only one still roaming. Katara returned to the South Pole to help re-connect the South with the North through well processed liaison, and also to begin the first teaching of waterbending for females other than herself for any who exuded an interest. Sokka took up residence on Kyoshi island with his girlfriend—Toph used the word lightly even though she knew very well that they were unofficially engaged—and didn't show any sign of shifting off for a new adventure any time soon.

Zuko was the new fire lord.

Well, that was one fate she wasn't envious of, at least, Toph told herself, though she did find herself bitter from time to time that a leader of a nation could go more places without a guard than she could, especially when he probably needed it! The pushover, she often thought with a dry scowl and then did her best to ignore any other news about him, but that was hard considering he was, as said, the leader of a nation, a new nation, a peaceful fire nation, no less.

He—redeemed prince and leader—seemed to be doing well, from what she managed to catch wind of.

They—pestering advisers and the like—were probably driving him mad, from what she could imagine.

In quieter hours, laying on her back on a softer patch of grass of their estate at night, Toph felt sorry for him.

Anyone he knew had left as well.

It must be hard, she admitted to herself, to suddenly have to lead a nation of people who, not so long ago, seemed to have forsaken you entirely. And then, for no reason she could immediately understand, it occurred to Toph that it was probably lonely too.

The lonely banished prince, come home to be king, but still lonely.

Still alone.

Eyes closing, Toph sometimes fell asleep outside, dreams of flying across the sky, however horrid it had once seemed, dreams of daring adventures, dreams of friends she missed, all running wild in the silence of her slumber. As the days passed, and days became full moon cycles, and full moon cycles became a year, and then two, Toph gave up much hope of an exciting life. Aang visited her as often as he could, because he knew it meant the world to her and he would do anything for Toph. But the world still had much call for the inspiration and goodness that Aang himself gave to it, not just as the Avatar, but as himself, and so more often than not, his visits were few at best. Things were boring beyond all comprehension and if a chance at escape dangled before her, it didn't dangle long before it was snatched away.

Two years became three and Sokka finally proposed to Suki. To this, all Toph had to say was that it was about time. Five years and they had their first child, to which Toph remarked: I hope it takes after the mom.

At which, everyone but Sokka laughed.

Then came the sixth year, just when Toph had finally adjusted herself to the general dullness of a noble woman's life, though never marriage, just when everything seemed quite set in stone—a phrase she would have been more fond of if it didn't refer to her social position—just when she thought she had it all figured out, the sixth year came. And with it, came the announcement of her marriage.

No person in all of Ba Sing Se was more surprised than Toph herself, who wasted no time in pounding down the grand corridors of her home to find her parents drinking tea peaceably in the second sitting room.

"Who says I'm getting 'married'?" she spat the word out like a curse.

"We do, dear," her mother sighed, seemingly exhausted by the very idea of having to discuss this at all.

"I won't!" she stomped her foot down, causing the table to overturn.

"Toph!" her father raised his voice, and out of sheer habit, Toph bit her tongue to keep from a myriad of retorts. "You will marry by the end of this year. We won't be here forever," he paused, looking twice as weary as his wife, and continued, "It is for your own good. You will see."

Shoulders shaking, Toph stalked away, her long hair swishing behind her. Over the years she'd taken to wearing it down in the house, since it didn't seem to matter, and even out, if she felt lazy enough, which she often did. Many thoughts passed through her mind as she entered her room, closing and leaning against the door. Marriage sounded so silly to her. What for, she wondered. Her parents didn't need more wealth, and neither did she. Perhaps they truly were just looking out for her as well as they knew how.

In that case though, Toph definitively preferred that they didn't look out for her at all.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, biting her lip as she considered the options, padding across her room and digging under her bed. There was the odd box from so long ago, the headband Ace had given her inside it—the one she wore always as the blind bandit and in her travels—and the space earth Sokka had given her, a water tribe charm Katara had sent to her a couple years ago, and letters from Aang, who was the only one with time to write her to keep her sane. There was a small teacup from Iroh, and a pretty necklace from Zuko—though Toph knew Iroh had picked it out and sent it in Zuko's name. He meant well.

It was the middle of the night when she pulled her hair up in her old fashion, piled on top, headband securing it, throwing the rest of the box and stuff into a small satchel. She shed her dress with much relief, exchanging it for her old outfit, which still fit her because to her disappointment, she had grown a scarce inch or two in the past years. On her bed she left her daily headdress, the one with tiny peonies in a row of three at the top and center, a pale yellow of spring and summer.

There was a moment of hesitance, however brief, in which Toph realized no matter how far she ran or for how long, this would all catch up to her. Quick to follow that was the thought that, in that case, she had even more of a reason to run away, again. Her exit was a quiet one, unnoticed, and practiced.

Her options for places to go were limited, but Toph would only settle on one, unexpected as it might be. Katara was too far. Sokka had Suki and the baby to take care of (the baby who, it might be mentioned, had indeed taken after the mother, except for the apparent and growing peculiar sense of humor.) Aang couldn't be pinned down for a day, much less enough time to get to him.

The trip to the harbor of Ba Sing Se, where the ferry had once dropped off refugees, was not a long way away for Toph, and with her mark of the flying boar, she had no trouble getting passage on a night ship. Still, the watchman asked her, just to be safe.

"You're sure you want this one, lady Toph? It's going to the fire nation," he said a bit too emphatically. Toph simply rolled her eyes and addressed him with a holier than thou tone as she shook her head.

"Yes, I said, that is fine, and I said that, that is where I want to go," she repeated and the man nodded, still seeming to disbelieve her.

"Alright," was all he said however, and she was on the ship.

"How long do you think it will be?" she asked the man and she could feel him shrug.

"As long as usual," he said and padded off, whistling, entirely unhelpful.

Chin resting on her hands, leaning on the boat railing, Toph frowned.

She hadn't seen the firebender in so long, and the likelihood of him simply letting her take up hiding in his palace was something of a shot in the dark, but Iroh was there. He, at least, would perhaps be of assistance, and maybe the new fire lord would be lenient in light of the Uncle's opinion. Toph wasn't above playing the card that he still owed her for burning her feet all those years ago. She never did properly pay him back, in her opinion. Bruised ribs and craniums were not enough to foot that bill.

In any case, it wasn't as though the young man had a choice. She was coming, and with the element of surprise no less. As she recalled, he enjoyed surprises as much as she did. Her thought on falling asleep later that night in her small hammock below deck was that he could deal with it.

Similarly, her thought upon waking the next morning was that he really just had no choice in the matter anyway, and that, was that.

That was that.

* * *

Reviews are good for my brain, because honestly, it's cinched at the hip to my ego.

Thanks for reading. More soon, I hope. It'll show up sooner on my writing journal though, linked in my profile that is otherwise sadly dull. I'll have to fix that...

-Haku


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